On The Ropes (Tapped Out 3)

“Ah, shit,” I gasped as his teeth closed around my nipple and turned the pulse between my legs into a throb. I could feel my wetness saturating the space between us, and he must’ve been able to too, because he groaned and thrust into the swollen clasp of my slit, not quite entering me but close. “Put it in, dammit.”

This time, he didn’t laugh. Didn’t do anything but oblige me, snapping his hips forward with enough power to slam my head into the door.

Oh, yeah, I saw stars. The good kind. And the bad.

“You okay?” he panted.

“No. Yes. Maybe.” He circled his hips, dragging his thick length over all of the overstimulated nerves inside me, and I decided I’d just keep my eyes closed and worry about possible concussions later. “Oh, shit. Harder. Please, harder.”

He gave me harder, so hard that the back of my thigh bumped the doorknob again and I jammed my bandaged pinkie into his shoulder. I tried to stifle the cry of pain, but he instantly stopped. “What? Did I hurt you?”

“My finger. Ow. Never mind. Just…this.”

“You sure?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” I grinded my hips into his and he groaned, his fingers working hard between us. I was so swollen and slippery, and every time he flicked my clit, I clenched around his cock embedded deep inside me.

He stayed still for another beat then started to fuck me in earnest again, drawing back and driving forward in long, smooth strokes that nearly made my eyes roll back in my head.

And this time, not in pain from one of my many sex-related injuries.

I fought to do my part, bouncing up and down on him the best I could in this position. I angled my lips over his, not censoring my moans or sounds of pleasure. We weren’t kissing, just panting into each other’s mouths while he destroyed me with every pump of his cock and brush of his fingers and I squeezed him for all I was worth.

All too soon, I could feel myself hurtling into the wall. Crashing through to the other side, where the only thing I could do was cling to him and cry out, lost to the sensations coursing through my body.

“That’s it, tesoro. Soak me. Fuck, yes,” he said into my ear, prolonging my orgasm and making it almost painful.

I was still coming, or still recovering—I wasn’t sure which—when I realized we were moving. His cock remained inside me, wedged deep, as he shuffle-walked across the living room and up the hall. “Damn jeans,” he muttered, bumping into the walls more than once.

Somehow even in my sex-drunk state, I managed a giggle. More like a wheeze, but the intent was there. He lightly smacked my ass, jiggling his cock inside me, and I whimpered like a cat in heat. I did it again when he dumped me on the bed and ranged his big body over mine. He disengaged us long enough to help me remove my coat and boots, though he seemed to debate whether to take off my thigh-high tights before moving on to remove his own clothes.

His boots, jeans, and boxers came off first. Every slice of skin revealed was a wonder. The man was a work of art. He tugged off his shirt from behind his head, giving me a glimpse of golden skin encased in myriad colorful tattoos and sheened in a faint layer of sweat.

Damn. Double damn.

I was still admiring him when he spread my legs, pulled back, and plunged.

“God, Gio.” I cried out, hell, I probably screamed. He didn’t stop for a second, gripping my waist in tense fingers while he slammed home again and again.

Looming over me, skin-to-skin, he fisted his hand in my hair and used it for purchase while his hips battered mine. I felt puffy and used, my whole lower half throbbing with the continual assault. He was huge, and I was…not. Even his thighs pressing my legs open made my muscles burn. I wasn’t used to sex like this. Not this hard, or this wild.

So deliciously rough, just like he’d promised.

His rosary dangled near my face, slapping my cheek. The dagger hovered too close and I was in such a haze of lust, of endless need, that I leaned up to catch it between my lips. When he groaned, I almost didn’t feel the pinch in my lower lip, or the blood that bloomed.

Almost.

Even as I released it, I tasted the result. Luckily, the cut seemed tiny, and oddly enough, only drove my desire higher. I reached down to grab the taut swells of his ass, reveling in the flex of muscles as he thrust again and again. My pinkie protested, probably bleeding again too, b

ut I didn’t care.

My world was his cock buried inside me. So deep we weren’t two people but one, joined in the most primal way possible. His heart banged against mine, relentless. And I gasped against his damp throat, drawing in deep breaths of his sweat and his cologne and the scent of our joining, musky and warm and secret.

Just like us.

He widened his stance between my legs, pushing them up until they draped over his arms. He spread them out, making my muscles quiver as he surged into me again and again. I closed my eyes and pinched his ass with my nails, pulling him into me with every bit of force I could muster.

And held on while the spasms gripped me from the inside out, sending me flying.